Batman Twerks
by Happy Dickfart
Summary: Batman and Superman must twerk together to save the day from a horrifying evil once more.


Batman Twerks, by Dickfart

Batman was in his Batcave being all Batdepressed because his Batparents were Batdead, when Superman came hurling through the cave walls.

"Oh. Hello, Clark," said Alfred. "Tea?"

"No thanks, Alfred. I'm on official Superman business," said Superman, and he grabbed Batman by the Bathead and dragged him across the Batfloor. "Let's go, Bruce. Those baddy bads are at it again and we have to twerk as a team to durrrstroy them."

"Go away..." said Batman, Batmoping on the concrete floor while his Bat-tears made his Batmascara run down his Batface. "I'm a literal mess."

"I'm taking Batman," said Superman. Alfred nodded. He was tired of Batman and all his Batmoping. "We get it, Bruce. Your parents are dead. But we have work to do."

"I wish I were Batdead," said Batman, and Superman punched him so hard that he flew across the world three times before Superman clotheslined him. Batman jerked against the mighty arm and fell back down to earth, landing in a dumpster. Superman lowered himself to the ground as Batman crawled out of the Batdumpster, brushing Batgarbage and Batfeces off of his Batclothes before standing up Bat-tall, completely forgetting that any of this Batbullshit ever Bathappened.

"Clark. Is it the Joker?" said Batman.

"Worse," said Superman, and they both took off into the back alley of Shitstain, California, home of the hipster wannabee gangstas and the Mexicans who sell them super extra fuckall Batspicy taco burritos. The town is called Shitstain for a reason. White people get firehole, and it rips out of their expensive designer jeans that come pre-torn as a stupid fashion thing. The women's jeans don't even have pockets, ha ha! See, the proper way to live is to be naked, because then corporations can't sell you clothes anymore. Mexicans know this, but they can only fight the good fight one firehole at a time. Ganbatte, Mexicans-chan!

Anyway, the only setback to Shitstain being a literal shit stain (I'm telling you, it's literal. Literally so important. Literally don't scroll past this, or you're a literal cisscum. tumblr 20:22) is that Hollywood is next door, and they decided that Adam Sandler must star in a movie where his best friend is a sentient pile of shit.

Only, that movie is so bad that of five different test audiences, zero survived. That movie was so bad that everyone's internal organs gave up and stopped, killing everyone upon viewing. Superman caught a glimpse of the movie with his X-ray vision, and a simple two second viewing of it punched him right in the balls like a kryptonite fist. Superman was Supermad, and was gonna give the next target audience a better show.

"Ladies and gentleman," said Superman, after punching the building down. He angled his punch in an exact precise way so as to avoid crushing the sixth target audience, who thankfully was only watching the previews. Yes, even previewings have previews. And those previews have previews. And THOSE previews have previews. Everything is a preview within a preview within a preview. Even you. Dickfart 04:20

"Hey, what gives?" said Adam Sandler. "I was gonna watch my movie for the first time and you ruined it."

"Watch This, Not That," said Superman, and he and Batman both tore their clothes off. He delicately toed the boombox to his left on, and out burst some thumping bumping club music that he and Batman thrust to. They swung their meat men around like fucking lassos of JUSTICE, then turned around and twerked, their glorious chocolate holes making everyone go ooo and ahh. Then a white like burst out of Batman's Bathole, and Batman turned around to see the ghosts of his Batparents who had been living in his Bathole this whole Bat-time.

"Oh Brucy-wucy. Mama is so proud of the beefy man you've become," said Batmom.

"Go get 'em, slugger," said Batdad. Batman wiped a happy tear away, and then he walked into the audience and gave Adam Sandler a lap dance.

"But I want to watch my mooovie," said Adam Sandler, the only audience member not titillated by Bat Ass.

"Shh," said Batman. "Let it go. Stop making movies and concentrate on that happy little tree that's growing in your pants."

"Yeah," said Superman, inserting his Super Girth into Batman's Bathole. While Batman humped a third rate actor with terrible movies, Superman humped Batman.

All was well.

The End


End file.
